


The Others

by shinyfire



Series: pour like the rain [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mud, Pharoga - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyfire/pseuds/shinyfire
Summary: Erik and Nadir sort out their differences. In the mud.(this used to be called sweat, rain, and mud).
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/The Persian
Series: pour like the rain [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023814
Comments: 18
Kudos: 15





	1. Sweat, rain, and mud

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a couple of months after the events of chapter 15 in pour like the rain. They've returned from their long stay on the beaches of northern France, and Nadir has changed his name from Khan to Gilani, for various reasons.
> 
> Big thank you to papersong for the prompt (from the The Gippsland Times found on tumblr), for reading the first draft and making sense of it all. Any remaining strangeness is down to me.

‘One night, in the pouring rain two men who had quarrelled turned out to settle their differences.

They fought until one got the other on his back and held him there.

“Will you give up?” he asked, and the reply was, “No,” so the man on his back was kept pinned to the ground.

After a time the question was repeated, but again the reply was, “No.”

“Then,” said the other, “will you get on top for a bit and let me get under? I’m getting wet through.”’

_The Gippsland Times, Australia, February 13, 1930_

[Taken from this post on tumblr](https://shinyfire-0.tumblr.com/post/635242366239932416/the-gippsland-times-australia-february-13-1930).

* * *

Erik was near the end the long walk back home to their apartment. It was late, almost dark. The weather was unseasonably warm for September and the skies were full and swollen with rain. The air played on the edge of a great, thunderous release that would be cooling and lovely and wet - when it came. Erik could feel the sweat run down his spine and under his mask but it was not irritation that he felt but a glorious joy at the thought of the sweat that must surely also be running down Nadir’s back, and how so soon, _so soon_ , he would be with him to peel off his damp clothes and to feel the press of his hot skin against Nadir’s.

As he reached the apartment building, he was even able to smile at M. Hervé in response to his quip about the weather and all but skipped up the stairs to their room. He flung the door open to find Nadir with his back to him, writing at the desk by the light of a lamp.

“I have returned! The labourer, the artisan, toiling for our bread!”

Nadir turned to greet Erik with a broad smile. “Look at the state of you. Your shirt – it’s stuck to your chest!”

“Ah, god it’s so hot.” Erik shut the door, removed the mask and took his satchel from his shoulder. “What are you writing?” He went over to the desk and placed his hand on Nadir’s back.

Nadir stood up and faced him, almost defensively. “I’ll tell you in a minute. Let me get you some water for your face – do you want wine?”

Erik laughed and wiped the sweat from his top lip, “Always wine – but first, my thoughtful lover, a proper greeting?“ He pulled Nadir away from the chair by his waistband and wrapped his hands around his ample backside, pulling him close. He still took great delight in this, that Nadir would acquiesce and be pulled easily into his arms, hardly having to ask, the gift so freely given. He kissed Nadir softly, feeling the little stutter in his heart that he would be responded to so gently and yet so eagerly, despite the sweat, despite his face.

And then Nadir pushed him away by his hips, “You wash, I’ll get you the wine. It’s too late to go out to eat. I’m sure we will have something here.”

Erik turned to watch him as he moved about the room. His thoughtful, wonderous lover. His natural pessimism had led to him worry that their return to Paris would ruin the pleasures of their relationship, that their long separations during the day would lead to a rift, a moving apart. But his worries were baseless, and it was the returns like these each evening, their sweet reunions, that made him wonder if things between them weren’t actually more delightful than ever.

He took off his shirt, found one that was reasonably clean and washed his face of the sweat and grime that had accumulated under the mask. He joined Nadir on the sofa who was waiting for him with wine. Erik wondered if it wouldn’t be too wrong to simply throw himself into Nadir’s lap, and where would that lead them, especially when he wanted to find out about the writing before any of that could begin. So he sat a respectable distance away but drank deeply of the wine.

“You’re not joining me?” Erik asked.

“No, no. Maybe later. I still have business to attend to.”

“The writing? Who are you writing to?”

“Ah, that is not business – _that_ is purely for pleasure.” Nadir smiled. Erik thought he looked a little uncomfortable.

"Oh yes?”

“Yes.”

There was a long pause.

“What are you doing, Nadir?”

Nadir moved forward on his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. “Since you’ve been working such long hours, I have been thinking that – I would – “

“What?” Erik put down the glass. “Tell me.”

“Well – remember you told me there are others – like us – living here.” Rather unexpectedly, Nadir got up and went to the desk.

Erik watched him and said, “There are – _two gentlemen_ \- along the corridor.”

“Yes, the very same. In your absence I have found myself in conversation with one of these gentlemen. Both of them, in fact. And – “ Nadir picked up the piece of paper on which he’d been writing, “ - I thought I would invite them here. One evening. To meet you.”

Erik stood up. His mind felt horribly as if it had been upended. “ _What_? What if I don’t want to meet them? What – if I don’t want them _in here_?” His heart was suddenly hammering. What the fuck had he been thinking about his thoughtful lover?

Nadir smiled, pleasantly. He seemed entirely oblivious to Erik’s incipient panic. “It will be nice. They are very interesting gentlemen. And they tell me there are some ladies, upstairs, who live in a similar manner – “

“ _Ladies_?”

“Yes, I thought we could make a party of it – “ Nadir smiled ever widely. He almost seemed to wave the invitation in Erik’s face.

“I think you are joking with me. _Nadir_. Please tell me you have not already invited them – “

“No, no. This is the invite. For Saturday evening. I was just going to deliver it and then you arrived home. Maybe we can go together now?” He smiled again, evidently hopeful that his incessant smiling would soften Erik up. Never!

“Now?”

“Yes, why not?” Nadir said, lightly. He went as if to leave. ”They keep unusual hours, like us. Here’s your mask – come on.”

Erik took the mask as Nadir passed him and then turned and leapt at the door throwing himself against it bodily. He whipped round, mask in hand, to face Nadir. “No! I will not let you out! I do not want – _them_ \- in here!”

Nadir folded his arms and gazed at Erik calmly. “Very well. You go out on Saturday night. I will have them here. I have no desire to live the life of a recluse, Erik. And you will not make me.” He made for the door handle. Erik was quicker.

“I’m not letting you out – “

“You can’t keep me in here! Get out of the way!” He laughed and gave Erik the most almighty shove away from the door.

Erik, although he was far slighter than Nadir, was wiry and strong and kept himself anchored to the door, gripping the handle, pulling it upwards. But he did not have the time to draw the bolt. Nadir put the invite between his teeth and went for Erik’s hands and arms and then there was a tangle of feet and hands and knees and elbows and hair and _skin and sweat_ , a ridiculous dance punctuated by grunts and swearing and eventually Nadir was able to prise Erik away from the door, enough to squeeze himself through it and escape with a laugh into the corridor outside.

In his rage, Erik scrambled to get the mask from the floor. He cursed Nadir for taking advantage of his need to cover himself and threw himself from the room with the intention of pouncing on him once again. As he attempted to walk-run after Nadir in a dignified manner, he realised with shame that their fight had not only enraged him but also left him excited and he was once again grateful for the particularly poor light in the corridor.

“Come back, you _fucking bastard_ ,” Erik hissed. “If you deliver that I will string you up from the bannisters, I will cut off your bollocks and _eat them_ – “

Nadir turned and grinned at him in triumph and broke into a little run along the corridor to reach the rooms of _The Others_ before Erik could reach him.

Erik stopped and watched with horror as Nadir knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by a tall bookish man with thin-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. His big, handsome nose.

“Ah, Monsieur Gilani – “

“Monsieur Bardin, good evening - " He turned and gestured towards Erik, “and this is my very good friend, Monsieur Renouf. Come here, Erik – don’t be like that, I’ve told Monsieur Bardin all about you.”

Erik felt himself colour with rage and wild jealousy. He was flooded with the desire to kill Nadir right there on the spot. He gritted his teeth and walked stiffly towards the open door. The man was joined by another, much shorter man, who was introduced as M. Devore.

Nadir continued, handing the man the invite, “As we discussed, a little invitation to our room on Saturday night. We shall be glad to receive you. Won’t we Erik?”

Erik did not reply.

Filling the silence, Bardin said, "We will look forward to it, thank you."

They both looked at Erik, expectantly. Erik stared at the floor.

Nadir turned back to M. Bardin “He has a sore throat. It’s made worse by – ah – this weather.”

Bardin nodded politely and bid them both goodnight. As soon as the door was shut, Erik grabbed Nadir by his shirt front so hard that he bent him backwards over the balustrade. “ _Sore fucking throat?_ – I’ll give you a sore throat!” Nadir began to struggle and laugh and -

Bardin’s door was opened again and the corridor was filled with light.

Nadir managed to look beyond Erik and gasp, “Ah, Monsieur Bardin – Erik! please, calm down – monsieur, thank you for remembering – the book – Erik!”

Erik reluctantly let go of Nadir and twisted away from him. Nadir stood up and straightened his shirt, taking the book from Bardin.

“Are you two quite alright? Bardin asked. “You seem, somewhat – “

“Yes, yes. We are very alright, thank you.” Nadir said, ever the charmer. “He is feverish with the throat. It makes him – ah – _tempestuous_. I shall take him home.” Nadir began to gently push Erik away.

Bardin smiled indulgently at them both and as soon as the door was shut, Nadir suddenly shot past Erik, chucking the book at the floor outside their room and ran away, down the stairs.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Erik shouted, looking down at him, no longer trying for dignity or respectability.

“We need to take this outside, my young man!” he called back.

Erik was full of anger and frustration but also a sudden mad sense of the absurd, and so followed him and all but lurched out onto the street. The skies had finally burst, and it was pouring with beautiful heavy warm rain. Nadir stood across the way, arms folded again, smiling, full of the glory of his escape, of his win, already soaked to the skin. Erik felt a rush of blood to his groin; his terrible unthoughtful maddening _wet_ lover. M. Hervé was watching them both. As ever.

They stood for a moment in the rain, staring at each other, Erik daring Nadir to make the first move. And then he was suddenly seized by the old rage. Erik stepped out into the centre of the street, and Nadir, maybe lulled into a sense of truce, still smiling, came closer too. And Erik, also smiling now, threw himself sideways at Nadir, his sharp shoulder smacking him in the chest, and then as he bent over with the shock, Erik grabbed his head and forced it down further. Nadir recovered enough to get his arms about Erik’s waist and in this position began to run fast enough to push them both over in a kind slow four-legged stagger into the mud of the street. As they fell, someone in an apartment high above them, enjoying the spectacle, shouted “aye, aye!” And then with admirable speed, Erik thought, Nadir was on top of him, pinning him down, legs on legs, his arms held out wide, his long and comfortable body entirely covering Erik’s.

“You're a terrible fighter.” Nadir laughed.

Erik, helpless, wet, highly unamused, attempted to free himself. “I walked home full of - full of – _something_ for you – and this is how I’ve ended up. Soaked through and covered in mud and with a planned invasion of my rooms. _I hate you.”_

“You didn’t see the look on M. Bardin’s face when he opened his door to you trying to push me over the edge. I think you deserve this. I’m going to keep you here until you calm down.”

“Yes, yes, you great buffoon. I’m entirely calm now. _Entirely_. Will you give up?”

Nadir smiled. His expression conveyed the sense that he had never been happier with _things_ in his whole life. “No.”

Erik sighed as best he could. It was difficult to sigh effectively when pinned down by smiling, sodden giant. “Would it change your mind if you knew I actually quite like this?” He squirmed a little, pressing his hips up into Nadir’s.

This made Nadir giggle. “This knowledge does not make me inclined to move.”

“Oh, give up! I’m covered in mud!”

Nadir brought his face very close to Erik’s, rainwater dripping from his hair, from the end of his nose. “ _No_.”

“You’ll get bored of this, Nadir, i know you - neither of us can do anything - like this. We will just get wetter and wetter.”

Nadir laughed and across his face came a look of happy realisation. He said, “Then will you get on top for a bit and let me get under? I really am getting wet through.”

And with a sudden movement, Nadir rolled them both over so that he was underneath Erik. Erik couldn’t help but laugh and extended his back to get a better look at him, pressing up from Nadir’s arms, who was still grinning outrageously. Rain and mud ran in rivulets down his neck and arms and dripped down onto Nadir’s face and his shirt was pleasingly transparent. Erik could feel his response and he pressed down hard with his hips. Christ almighty, what had they come to, so quickly?

Their spectator called down, “Get inside you two, before the Sûreté arrive!”

Erik looked up and shouted back, “I’m reliably informed that _this_ is how they fight in Persia. Isn’t it Nadir? They crush each other to death, slowly, in the mud!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the unseen voice shouted back, “But we don’t want to see your _fighting_! Do it in your room.” Erik heard the window slam shut.

Erik smiled down at Nadir, the rainwater running under the mask. “What do you suggest we do now Monsieur Gilani? Now that we are both covered in mud? Go swimming in the river? Walk about all night and let the rain rinse us clean? I blame this all _on you_.”

And then Erik stood up in a swift movement and offered his hand to Nadir, who took it and he pulled him to his feet. And then Nadir used his weight to pull Erik very close, their arms folded between their soaking chests, he said “Remind me – why did we end up in the mud?”

Erik laughed again and said, “You! It seems I have been neglecting you for my work and you have started to stray.” Reluctant to wrap his arm around Nadir’s mud-covered backside, he instead thrust his hand inside the back of his trousers, fingers around marvellous buttock, locking them into a tight embrace. “I shall have to make amends to prevent you from finding satisfaction elsewhere. And I am exceedingly jealous of _that man’s_ large nose.”

With that, Nadir put his free hand at the back of Erik’s wet head and leant down and kissed him on the mouth long and slow and hot. And then he withdrew and looked at Erik intensely. He whispered “We shall have to strip these clothes from our backs immediately and _burn them_.”

And Erik, at this whisper, was almost instantly _full_ , and he said, “There is not a moment to lose. Come, I will start to help you with your shirt right now – “ and he started to pull Nadir’s shirt up -

“In front of M. Hervé?” Nadir’s voice was still low and soft, and it did terrible things to Erik. He continued, “I think not. Or shall I have to pin you to the ground again, calm yourself, man. Let me take you to our room. _We have all night_.”


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik is not happy with the idea of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I fear you have a door I cannot see and that any minute now the door will open and you’ll be gone. Then what? Then what as I bang the walls like the Inquisition searching for a saint?”
> 
> — Jeanette Winterson, from “Written on the Body”

In the soft morning light Erik lay on his back and listened to Nadir’s gentle snoring. It was warm in their bed, and still early and the street outside was quiet. After a little while, he turned and looked at Nadir, so peaceful in the soft morning light, and carefully picked a piece of dry mud from his forehead. 

But the serenity of the morning did nothing to calm Erik’s turbulent thoughts.

Nadir stirred and moved towards him. He draped his arm across Erik’s chest. Erik placed his hand on Nadir’s forearm, fought against the urge to grip it in his panic, but instead stroked him, tenderly.

“You’re awake.” Nadir murmured, his eyes still closed.

“Yes.”

“Sleep. It’s early.”

“I can’t sleep. I am thinking about _the others_.”

“What?”

“Those two men. Who you have - who are going to come in here.” He paused. “I - I do not want them in here. I do not want to make conversation with them - and be forced to wear the mask - in here - I - “

Nadir took hold of Erik’s upper arm and used it to heft himself closer, still trying to sleep. “Stop. This is ridiculous. It is too early.”

“It is not too early. I am leaving for work soon. I have been awake for hours. Thinking about them.”

Nadir groaned. He reached up and gently laid his palm on Erik’s cheek. He kept his eyes shut as he spoke. “You tell me - you want to be like ordinary men. I do this ordinary thing. Invite two people in here - you behave like this.”

Erik turned so that his face was only inches from Nadir’s. It had taken him months to be able to bear to do this without feeling the need to cover his face with his hands. Nadir opened his eyes. Erik stared at him desperately, as if he could communicate his unhappiness without words. After a while, he whispered, “I cannot do this. I cannot have them in here. The only person who has ever been in this room is you - and now - and now - _them!_ This is - Nadir - this is the only place I can be free - the only place I take off that thing.” Erik squeezed his eyes shut. He would not humiliate himself by crying. “Please - don’t make me do this - “

Nadir moved his thumb gently over his cheek bone. “Erik, it will be alright. They will stay for an hour. And then they will leave. And afterwards you will know - ” Erik heard the smile in Nadir’s voice as he continued, “No, no. Not that you are ordinary, I do not think anyone will ever say that about you. That you are extraordinary.” He took his hand off Erik’s face and placed it firmly on his bare backside, pushing Erik ever closer, hip to hip, and he felt himself respond quickly and fully.

Erik couldn’t help but allow himself to fall into Nadir’s chest, his free hand behind Nadir’s head, fingers deep in his thick black hair. Nadir rolled himself bodily onto him, crushing him in the way that Erik had loved last night in the mud, pinned down, enveloped in the sheer mass of Nadir’s warm, radiant body.

Nadir brought both his arms around Erik’s shoulders and cupped his head in his hands, and smiling down at him, said, “Let me help you get them from your mind -” he kissed Erik full on the mouth, “let us do everything possible to forget them for now - “ and he kissed Erik again deeper, and Erik couldn’t help but kiss his beautiful lover back, desperate to believe that this, here in his arms could be the answer to it all, that _he_ would be all that was needed to live with courage.

The effect of being so held was often an instant cure for Erik’s frequent and intense feelings of dread, but this morning it was different, in spite of Nadir’s efforts. His throat felt tight, his chest ached with misery; he could not accept this gift. He suddenly turned his face away from Nadir and began to release himself from the tight embrace.

“Stop. Stop. It is no use - I am going to be late - “ Erik all but fought himself free, pushing Nadir off, and sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor. He hunched himself over the embarrassment of his erection and rubbed his face roughly. Behind him, Nadir gave a great sigh.

“You will not be late Erik. Get back into bed. Do not leave me here - wanting.” He placed his warm hand at the base of Erik’s back.

“No. You think you can convince me of anything - to do - anything - just by _lying_ on me. No, Nadir. It is not possible.”

Erik stood up and began to get dressed. He noticed that Nadir had propped himself up on one arm and was watching him, smiling.

“Why are you smiling? What’s the matter with you?” he demanded.

“You are nice to watch. You are funny. In your rush to leave me. You do not really want to leave.”

Erik stopped buttoning his trousers and looked at Nadir. “I am not in any way funny. Who do you think you are?” But Nadir rolled onto his back, apparently full of his own ease and contentment. He did not reply, and put his hands behind his neck and smiled up at the ceiling, eyes shut.

Erik continued to look at Nadir. He felt a smile form on his lips and somehow Nadir’s attitude of supreme well-being drew him in, as if he were a moth to a flame. He was always, always pulled towards him, a cold planet to Nadir’s sun, always warmed by him, drawn back towards the light out of his own darkness. And the strange, awkward chill in his heart melted away and with no further thought he found himself leaping back onto their bed, and into Nadir’s arms. Nadir welcomed him with a laugh and soon, _not soon enough_ , he was naked again, and there was a shared ecstacy of warm skin against his, such that they felt they could melt into each other, a passion of touch, hands and lips and everywhere else, tender and firm and so insistent, and finally deep, bone deep, aching, rhythmical pleasure.

Erik was very late to work that morning.

* * *

Since he had arrived back at the practice, two months previously, Erik had undergone something of renaissance in his work. He had always been able to concentrate for long periods of time; indeed this concentration had been a great respite from his state of mind in the months before he met Nadir, but now his ability to design and invent and create had developed into something quite extraordinary. It felt to Erik as if his mind really knew no bounds. Everything was there, at his fingertips. Giradin suggested that he could soon become a partner, a suggestion which Erik had treated with suspicion until he had been given his own room in which to work, almost as a kind of proof of his word. And so, taken by the flow of his inspiration, Erik frequently left the practice late each night, and when he returned home he would take to his books and study.

Not that Nadir said anything at all about this. He had a remarkable ability to accept Erik’s eccentricities. He greeted Erik with great pleasure at whatever hour he arrived home, and allowed him the space and time to study when they were together. Surely he was a god amongst men. And Erik had not asked Nadir what he did during those long hours of his absence.

But the sudden and alarming presence of _the others_ in their lives, the prospect of this forthcoming party, and the joys of this morning played on his mind all day, made him anxious and alert to the fact that maybe he wanted to give something back to Nadir - that he wanted to be there, had to respond to him. Or face the awful possibility that Nadir would find succour elsewhere. With them. Christ, he wanted to - wanted to give the man everything he had, but his own awful self so often got in the way of all that.

He made sure that he left the practice earlier that evening. He would risk walking home even though the orange autumn sun was still quite high in the sky; he knew that he had been neglecting Nadir for the sake of the work recently, and he knew that he _missed_ him, but he could get so easily lost in the drawings and the ideas and his beautiful calculations that he would forget the time and would eventually look up and it be all but dark, and he’d realised he’d lost yet another evening to work. And so, he left the building full of pride that he had managed not to forget himself and his handsome lover, that he was doing something normal and considerate. Something that normal and considerate men would do. Something he was slowly realising that he could do too.

And he looked forward to a repeat of this morning’s pleasures.

Yet as he walked, he was forcibly reminded of another very good reason for his habit of leaving the practice late; walking about alone in the daylight, especially in the glare of the late summer sunlight was unpleasant. Deeply unpleasant. Distressing, in fact.

On those rare occasions when they walked together in the city during the day, Nadir had wasted many words on him with reassurances that _all was well._ Erik heard Nadir’s voice in his head now, recalled his soft smile as he spoke – _no one is looking, at least not really, and if they were what did it matter, people look at others all the time, especially if they are interesting_ – but Nadir was not here now, and his voice in Erik’s head was not loud enough to drown out the voice of his own panic, the evidence of his own eyes. For they _were_ staring at him. All of them. Women drew their children away as he passed, men turned and watched open mouthed as he walked, little boys called to their friends; “ _look_!”

And here was his reason not to want The Others, in his rooms. Why would he possibly want to invite this kind of attention into his own place of sanctuary? The one place he could exist happily unmasked, the one place he could truly let go. He remembered the first time he invited Nadir into the place – a time when he was drenched with shame and misery - it had only been his utter desperation that had enabled to let him in. No one else, not even Madame _fucking_ Hervé had been in his rooms. And now he was expected to let these two fools in? Just like that? Just because Nadir wanted them? Why did Nadir want them? Why?

And there was the expectation that Erik would be capable of having _normal_ friends, like a _norma_ l man. That their presence would somehow be enjoyable to him, that he would not have to spend the time trying to say the right thing, trying not to let Nadir down, trying to be something other than what he was. Being forced to wear the mask in his own home. And then a terrible thought gripped him; perhaps they would demand to see his face? Perhaps Nadir would suggest he take the mask off? He didn’t care, he said he _liked_ Erik’s face, he’d said it many times. Perhaps Nadir had forgotten what a terror he truly was, and would suggest to Erik that he remove the mask in front of The Others? That just had he had forced them into his rooms, he would force him to expose himself to them and they would gasp and look away and demand to leave -

Erik stopped walking. He was not breathing. He all but fell into an alley, where he leant against the cool of the building and struggled to calm himself. He brought his hands up to his masked face and then rolled away along the wall, pressing his forehead to the bricks, almost as if to derive some comfort from the solidity of the wall. And there he remained for several minutes, shoulder near his ears, his stomach twisted in self-recrimination. Yet again he was failing. What kind of man could not walk home in the daylight without being reduced to this?

And then, in the distance, he thought he heard the sound of a violin being tuned. And its sound soon opened out into a gentle, lilting folk song. Its melody was joined by a woman's voice. He listened intently to the music and stopped thinking about himself, holding his breath, this time not out of fear but from anticipation. She sang clearly, passionately, and the violin was tuneful and rhythmical. He rolled himself back along the wall to face the street and crept cautiously to the opening of the alley. The singing was coming from up the street, just to the left. He leant against the wall and listened and then very carefully peered around the corner to catch a glance at them.

To his surprise, there were three of them; the violinist, a handsome man in a battered top hat, the woman in a bonnet, and her fat baby who she held on her hip wrapped in a shawl. She sang well, despite the little thing constantly reaching up to pat her cheeks, her voice ringing through the streets. Erik guessed they were about his age, or younger, and listening to them and watching the appreciative crowd that they so easily drew, he felt a pang of jealousy and regret that he would never have been able to participate in either the performance or the crowd. Or provide such a family for Nadir. And what strange thoughts these were when only minutes before he had all but run to hide himself from the attention of others. Erik continued to listen to their performance. He found himself inexorably drawn from his hiding place to hear her, to get a better view of him. He stood at the entrance to the alley, his back pressed against the wall and with their music he all but forgot his fear and his panic - and his jealousy.

He listened while the crowds grew around them, people stopping on their walk home, people out for a stroll in the warm evening sun. And at last he gave his head a little shake; he was calmer, largely thanks to the music, and so he took advantage of the distraction of the musicians and started again on his own way home.

The rest of the journey passed without further panic or need to hide. He kept himself together by humming the melody that the woman had been singing, adding variations to it, singing the harmony, orchestrating it, changing it to the key of ré minor; keeping his eyes to the ground to protect himself from those who he knew would stare just a little too long. He was pleased to find that soon he arrived at his apartment building without further abject failure on his part. M. Hervé was at the door engaged in conversation with a man with a flock of honking geese, and once he had rather needlessly jumped over them, he swept up the stairs to their rooms, and fully expectant of a joyful and grateful reunion with Nadir.

The door was unlocked, but Nadir was not in his usual place at the desk. He was not on their sofa. Erik went to their bed and drew back the curtain. The bed was a mess - but empty. He was not in their tiny kitchen. Nadir was not anywhere to be found. When he finally admitted to himself that no, _Nadir is not here_ , he stood entirely still in the centre of the room, and let the disappointment wash over him. His breath caught with the intensity of it. He felt the sweat of the walk run down his back, under the mask. He couldn’t help but recall with vicious clarity that night when Nadir had failed to arrive at all and it had been the start of many terrible things. He felt himself sway in the memory of it. His stomach dropped in fear that Nadir’s absence once again meant the start of something awful, his mind swirling with wordless dread.

He forced himself to go to the window and look out at the street below, as if he hoped that he might just happen to see him returning. Where could he have gone? Erik turned from the window to look around their room. What remained here of Nadir’s? Was there anything left of his? Had he simply gone without telling him? Was he really so unhappy? He hadn’t seemed so last night, or this morning, but who could really tell? Perhaps he was only biding his time here, waiting until there was a good enough excuse to leave; Nadir _rightly_ wanted more than just Erik, who was weird and difficult and strange. He had left to find someone else, taken up with The Others, or a lovely buxom wife who would put on lavish dinners for their crowds of enthusiastic and fascinating friends. And she would produce for him three strong-limbed, smooth-skinned, wholesome children, and she would be the exact opposite of himself; beautiful where he was hideous, confident where he was frightened, sociable when he was solitary, and charming where he was deeply and forever awkward.

He untied the mask and flung it on the floor. _Fucking thing_. Yes, Nadir had gone for all those reasons and more. Erik would think of them all, list them to himself, write them all out to recite to himself when he wanted to be reminded of all the reasons he was inadequate and awful and unworthy of Nadir’s love. And he would do this while looking in the mirror, unmasked. All of the good and sensible reasons why Nadir was infinitely better off without him. And he felt his mind stagger and fall and with the fall he felt the old urge to lose himself and escape from all this, to salve the knife wounds in his heart in the most efficient way he knew how.

He stopped and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. No no no! He would not fall for this urge so easily; he would not be so weak. Nadir was probably just - somewhere else – wherever he went, not that Erik knew, not that he’d really thought to ask him these past few weeks. Perhaps he would return soon, within minutes! and there would be no need for all of this.

Erik clenched his jaw in determination. He poured some water from the jug into a large bowl. He took off his jacket and waistcoat, and the neckcloth, opened his shirt. He washed his face. The water was cool. He allowed himself to feel the pleasure on his face despite its horror. He could behave normally, he would wash his horrid face as if he were an ordinary man, as if his face were ordinary. It was possible. There was no reason at all to think the worst of Nadir. He would read a book and drink wine and wait for him to return home, home from whatever usual and perfectly ordinary and non-alarming thing that he was out doing. He reached for the towel and began to dry himself. And then he heard the door open and it was Nadir in the full flow of a conversation with _someone else_. A someone else who was equally animated and who was following Nadir in.

Erik froze, every nerve on his back aflame. He dropped the towel.

Nadir said to his friend, “Ah yes, I think that would be a very good – oh Erik! You’re here!”

Erik could sense the other person with Nadir, standing there, expecting him to turn around and greet them, like a normal man.

“Erik, this is M. Bardin – “

Erik did not say anything, did not turn. He was caught between wanting to run and being frozen in utter fright.

Nadir spoke again, a note of realisation in his voice, “Ah, I think it might be best if you leave, Monseiur Bardin. There is a small problem.”

“Oh yes?” Bardin said.

“Yes. Leave now.”

“Really? Is he alright?”

“Yes, yes, everything is quite fine. But we must be left alone. Now.”

Erik heard the sound of their feet and then the door was shut.

“It is alright, Erik – you can turn around – I am sorry – “

Erik lifted his head slowly from his chest and looked a little to his left. He could scarcely bear the hot shame that was flooding through him, making him feel as if he might lose contact with the ground.

Nadir continued, pleasantly, “I was not expecting you to come home so early.”

He still did not turn to look at Nadir, but let him see his profile, the worst of it. His voice was hard, despite it all. “I can tell. Who was that?” The shame was becoming a white rage.

There was a slight hesitation, maybe even a slight intake of breath. Erik hoped there was. Nadir replied, “that was our neighbour. You do not remember?”

Erik turned very slowly to face Nadir, and thought he saw in Nadir’s eyes a glimmer of distaste at the sight of his face; _ah there it is, that is what I am expecting from you, I know what you are trying to hide. You are like an open book to me, Nadir._

“What was he doing in here?”

Nadir moved away from the door briskly as if to start things up again, as if to try to break out of this _situation_. His voice was light. “We had been downstairs fixing a tap for Madame Hervé. We were merely continuing our conversation. Shall we have some wine?”

Erik watched him as he moved about the room. He gripped his hands tightly behind his back in an attempt to ground himself against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, a kind of nausea. Surely he would not vomit? He had the intense desire to lose himself to enter fully into this light-headed feeling so that he might simply cease contact with the world around him. Escape from Nadir. Escape from his himself.

He said, “why did you bring him in here?”

Nadir stopped moving. He stood as still as Erik and looked at him from across the room. “Because I live here. Because he is a friend.”

Erik picked up the mask from the floor and as he did so, said, “after all I told you this morning, you still bring them in here?” He pressed the mask to his face and tied it back on.

“I live here, Erik. It is a reasonable thing to do. Why are you doing that?”

“It is? I told you what this room is to me, this place where you think you can casually bring your friends. Were you listening? Or was your head full of _them_?”

Nadir gave a dry laugh. “What can you possibly be talking about?”

“Do not mock me, Nadir. With your conversations and your _friends_.” Erik struggled to control his voice. “I can no longer take _this off,”_ he gestured at his face with hands like claws, “in my own home, because I will never know when you will march in with your friends. It is an invasion. It is a violation.”

They stared at each other in a long silence.

Finally Erik continued, “why don’t you go and live with them, if you want them so much? Instead of bringing them in here. Humiliating me.”

“What are you talking about Erik? Why have you put that on? I did not expect you to be here. You are never usually here at this hour. I would never have brought him in here had I known – “

“Of course not - ” Erik turned away from Nadir and muttered, “ - had you known there was a monster here.”

“What did you say?”

Erik did not reply. With each passing second he ascended higher and higher into his outrage; the shock of it; he no longer had a place he could call safe, he could be invaded at any moment. He noticed his hands shaking in spite of his tension. This could not continue. Nadir could not continue living here. Erik was not an ordinary man. He could not live with a man as normal and as hopeful as Nadir. And with this realisation, came the old desire for self-annihilation. He went to the desk and began to pull out the drawers. He was sure the needle had been hidden here, at the back of one of them.

“Erik. What are you doing?” Nadir came closer and then he caught hold of Erik’s right forearm, and grasped it so tightly that Erik could not withdraw. “I am sorry. But you must stop this.”

Erik did not look up. But Nadir’s grip was powerful and Erik did not try to resist him. He wondered vaguely what would happen if he did.

Nadir continued, “it was a mistake, Erik. It will never happen again.” He caught hold of Erik’s other arm, tugging round him so that they were facing each other.

Erik did not say anything. He still did not look up.

Nadir put his hands on Erik’s hips, pulling him closer. “Do not ever refer to yourself as a monster. It is not true. It is an insult to me. I do not love a monster. I love a man.”

Erik kept his head bowed. “It is no good. I cannot do it. I cannot be who you want me to be - “

Nadir pressed his forehead to touch Erik’s. “You know that is nonsense.”

Erik could not reply for he knew his voice would betray him. He slowly returned Nadir’s embrace and thought for the thousandth time that his lover was a rock in the storm, both his solid refuge and the place upon which he would be wrecked. They remained like this for several minutes, while the storm passed, until finally Nadir said, “come now. Let me take off the mask.”

Again, Erik did not resist him. He could not after this embrace, could not bear the separation that would come from any attempt at escape, shameful at the way he could be so easily undone by Nadir’s tenderness. Ashamed that he allowed himself to think himself worthy of Nadir’s love, when he was not, when he was no good.

Nadir gently untied the mask and let it fall into hands. He put it carefully on the desk. Erik fought the urge to bring his hands up to cover his face, still so full of contradictions that he could not speak. He shut his eyes and lowered his head again, resting it against Nadir’s shoulder.

Nadir placed his hands on Erik’s upper arms, as if bracing him. “Do you remember the first time I did that? I will always want to see your face Erik. I never want you to wear that thing when you are with me in here. I am very sorry for what happened just now. I know that you are upset. It will not happen again.”

Erik felt loose-limbed with shame. “I walked home in the light. To be with you.“

Nadir wrapped his arms around him.

“I had to stop to catch my breath. Because - because they were - “

“It is alright now.” Nadir kissed the top of his head.

Erik felt tears come to his eyes, and this time he let them flow and run down his cheeks. “I thought you would be here. But you were not.”

Nadir hummed, a sound that rumbled deep from within his chest, as if he were a huge cat, and pressed Erik ever closer.

“I thought that you had left me,” Erik whispered. “To be with them.” The acid of self-loathing washed through him, leaving his bones sparse and bare.

Nadir continued his humming, almost as if he was purring to comfort Erik, his embrace tightened.

Erik continued, “I thought that you hated me. And then you brought _him_ in here.”

“Oh, Erik.” Nadir put his hand fingers under Erik’s chin and gently lifted his face up. “Look at me, look at me.”

Again Erik could not resist him. And by some miracle found that he could look Nadir in the eyes. And still Nadir made no reply but instead smiled and cupped Erik’s face in his hands and kissed him.

And he was brought back to the surface like one who had been rescued from drowning, and returned Nadir’s kiss as if it was giving him the very air that he needed to live.

* * *

_September, 1853_

_My dear Alphonse,_

_How wonderful it was to see you again in Fontainebleau. Please send our regards to your mother. As ever, her hospitality was quite outstanding._

_You asked me to give you news of our strange neighbours. Since we saw you last we have become quite well-acquainted with one of them, a M. Gilani. He has an interest in books second only to Arnaud and we have set up something of a book exchange with him. He is conversant on many and various subjects. He has told us many tales of Persia and has many scandalous tales to tell of Paris. We find him very entertaining - and, it must be said, pleasing to the eye._

_M. Gilani’s companion - we know him only as Erik - is a different matter altogether._

_Up until Saturday evening we had only ever seen him fleetingly, and I am afraid he had made upon us a very poor impression. We thought him ill-tempered and arrogant. And he looks exceptionally strange. He wears an odd mask that covers his entire face apart from his mouth and eyes. Whatever disfigurement it covers it is clearly very bad - but more on that later. I accompanied M. Gilani - I shall call him Nadir from now on, for that is his name and we are on first name terms - into their rooms the other day and there we were surprised to find Erik, apparently without his mask. Well - the man made no attempt to greet me and I was immediately pushed from the room by Nadir with great urgency for fear that I should see something of his face. It is this kind of behaviour that only piques a man’s interest, does it not? Do remember the awful M. Ferrand? Almost faceless because of syphilis. We wondered if this might be the case for Erik._

_What, I hear you cry, happened on Saturday evening, to change our opinion of this Erik?_

_We had been invited to spend the evening in their rooms, but that afternoon, Nadir came to us and intimated that they have a problem with mice. How this is so, considering we all live on the first floor, I have no idea. But in any case, he insisted that they come to us, and so they did, bearing several bottles of good wine. And as you know, any man who comes to our rooms with that quantity of wine, mask or not, is very welcome in our rooms!_

_We knew that Nadir would be good company. We did not expect anything at all of Erik, in fact rather dreaded his company. And, at first, our fears were proved correct. Nadir did all of the talking, in his usual, slightly wry, manner. Erik sat very close beside him, barely looking up, so very strange and made his way quickly through several glasses of wine. And, observing Erik, I will admit to wondering where the evening would lead. I confess that I feared it would end dismally with forced conversation and awkward silences._

_And I could not help but wonder what a worldly and, as I said before, attractive man, such as Nadir, was doing yoked with this creature Erik. What could Nadir possibly find in the man? But we both noticed that Nadir looked at his companion with utter adoration, and showed him immense forbearance in his taciturn silences, and rested his hand on Erik’s knee in a way in an attitude of great affection. Clearly he could see something in the man that we, at that stage, could not._

_And then we moved onto architecture and the rumours of the forthcoming destruction of Paris thanks to our new dear Emperor. And quite a change came over Erik. It turned out that he is an architect of some repute. Nadir had not informed us of his companion’s profession. It would have made us far more inclined towards the man had we known that he was not some sort of angry, masked idiot but a man of education and artistry. And when Erik had drunk enough wine to lose whatever inhibitions he held at first, he was able to hold forth about these architectural rumours with eloquence and knowledge. There was a great transformation in his demeanour._

_From that point on the evening passed very quickly. Erik, to our surprise and amusement, proved to be a charming guest, despite the mask. He was equally as knowledgeable about music and composition - apparently he is a violinist - as he was about architecture and a great many other things. And despite his lack of a face (what a thing to write!), he more than makes up for it with his remarkable voice. What a voice he has! We decided this morning that we must ask him to sing for us, for surely a man in possession of such a speaking voice must also be a wonderful singer._

_They make quite an extraordinary pair and I should one day like to introduce them to you._

_At some point in the evening there was a discussion about whether we should leave our rooms and make our way to Madame Daquin’s establishment, but by this time we were six or seven, or maybe eight, bottles down and we came to the conclusion that because of this, no one would be able to remember the way and that it was better to remain in our rooms than risk getting entirely and pointlessly lost, especially when we had not quite run out of wine. Eventually, according to Arnaud, I am afraid I do not remember the details, there was a rather earnest attempt to teach us both the Persian language. But he says Nadir could not stop laughing at our attempts at pronunciations and Erik could not stop laughing at him and the whole thing descended (further) into farce. He tells me that we were joined at last by the two mademoiselles who live on the floor above, home from an evening at the theatre. As I say, unfortunately I do not remember the details._

_I awoke the following morning to find with surprise that everyone was still in our rooms, strewn about the place like a scene from a battlefield, in a similar manner to the new year’s celebrations of ‘47? Do you remember? That morning was quite the scene of devastation! Alas, unfortunately I remember very little of that evening. I came across Nadir and Erik entwined such that I could not see Erik’s face - I did not want to look in any case, to preserve his privacy, but I did have to step over them on the way to find some water and naturally, I averted my gaze. The ladies had found themselves respite on our two sofas. Why they felt the need to stay, I cannot quite fathom. Perhaps it was our scintillating company._

_They all left quite early in the morning, in the kind of miserable silence that follows a particularly long and entertaining night. We have seen Nadir since, and the ladies and we have all resolved to have a repeat performance sometime soon. What a little society we shall make! Perhaps when you visit next you and Thomas shall join us all?_

_Your affectionate etc etc friend,_

_Olivier_


End file.
